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There’s something to be said about spending over 20 minutes to set up a set of flashing L.E.D. lights for a five-song set, one that was squeezed into an already tight lineup at that. Some artists, however, rely more heavily than others on a well-crafted image and persona to present their music and themselves. The two are, in fact, symbiotic. Thus it was appropriate that Cory Nitta, producer and vocalist, had possibly the most contrived outfit imaginable while still trying to pass for exactly that: An outfit, not a costume. All spandex and Mickey & Minnie tees aside, his music matched the already contrived tone set forth by being pretty much entirely pre-recorded. Just hit play.

Adding a live drummer and guitarist to enhance his electro-pop sound was a good move. The drummer was relatively in sync with Nitta’s post-programming execution, and the guitarist’s Cornflake-crunchy distortion added a much-needed tactile layer to the sound. A backup singer also flanked Nitta onstage, but looked noticeably out of place, as if his friend had signed him up for a talent show performance he did not entirely condone. Nitta himself was the eccentric stage-personality needed to match his eccentric image and sound. He jumped all over the tiny stage, pulled at his face and was constantly immersed in flashbulbs while singing “Hey Alligator”, among other songs. All this energy led to an anticlimactic end when he realized he had already performed his last song. I guess everything wasn’t programmed ahead of time.

Exalting to prominence by producing a catchy remix of an already catchy song is a golden strategy. Remix Kanye West’s song (“Flashing Lights”) and you’re thrust from the outer orbits of musical obscurity into the star’s own atmosphere. But Munroe is no Icarus and isn’t tempted by Kanye’s glare, instead working on his own material with a supporting guitarist and crafting a huge but definitively pop-oriented sound. He has remixed U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday” too, though.

Delivering power-pop with panache, Munroe played drums standing while also handling all vocal duties, occasional keyboards, and other samples and knickknacks. Strangely, he used plastic xylophone mallets the whole time (breaking one in the process) but probably in case he wanted to play his idle set of bells. His guitarist, playing both acoustic and electric, was incredibly solid and versatile, either strumming gentler phrases or singling out torrid lines. Coming together on “Will I Stay” the duo produced a surprisingly big sound with considerable scope. Munroe took to the keyboard for “I Want those Flashing Lights”, playing a solo intro and full verse before the pre-programmed verses and chorus ignited the pleased crowd.

As soon as Nelo introduced themselves and their Austin origins it cemented my theory of what they would sound like. Now image is not everything, granted, but in music it is a lot of things. So when you look like you could be high school baseball teammates and you’re from a college town, chances are you’re going to sound like an amalgamation of the standard Big 12 conference college fraternity playlist: Blues Traveler, Bare Naked Ladies, Stone Temple Pilots and, last but not least, Dave Matthews Band.

As the six-piece eased into their laid back grooves, I couldn’t help but feel like I should be tapping a keg somewhere. The group showed some flair by adding saxophonist David Long and the lead vocalist, Reid Umstattd, seemed to alternate cues from Scott Weiland, Glen Phillips, and Eddie Vedder. The band was mostly listless on stage, needing at least four songs before showing any emotion. It was an opening slot, and they did profess a love of beer, but still, it’s your first gig in the Big Apple, make something of it!

Sounding very much like “Southern Cross” on their last song, the group could easily follow down the career path of successful alt-country rockers like Pat McGee. But their lack of bite and preference for easy smiles may just make them a West Texas name.

I’m a latecomer to what is arguably New York’s most hyped band at the moment, and despite a perfectly competent set of delightfully incompetent messy punk-lite, there’s just no way they could have possibly lived up to the hype. Guitarist and lead singer Cassie Ramone riffed around as much as she could get away with in less than two minutes while sandwiched between fuzzy washes of guitar and equally fuzzy harmonized vocals. Whether the latter was deliberate or an unfortunate casualty of the house sound system, I can’t say; that’s one of the perils of the lo-fi world. Drummer Ali Koehler was the most intriguing of the bunch, head down and appendages smashing away with just a hair more precision than the tunes seemed to demand, sometimes able to drive things forward against all odds but sometimes overcome by the tangled power chords. I’d probably have found the apparent on-stage jitters perfectly charming were it not for my nagging suspicion that they’ve had a little too much buzz for a little too long for them to be genuine. I guess it’s not fair to hold the band members responsible for the weight of expectation here, but I was underwhelmed. Maybe it’s my fault for waiting so long to get around to them. I had the same problem when I finally went to see Shrek.

This is what CMJ is all about: A band I’d been hearing about for a few years that hadn’t really captured my attention… until now. Jagjaguwar’s Parts and Labor are bound to make an extremely lasting impression going into 2009. Their sound was dense and intelligent, not banking on a bunch of imitations to create a solid sonic aesthetic, but based on noise built around brilliantly written songs. That’s the problem with a lot of the so-called “noise” bands today. They don’t stand for anything. Their sound is shallow, but Parts and Labors’ sound had depth—and there’s a clear demarcation between the two.